


Whether You Like It Or Not

by StellaVesperis



Series: Fëanorian Week 2021 [5]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon Compliant, Childhood, Family, Fëanorian Week 2021, Gen, More family arguments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 00:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30131316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaVesperis/pseuds/StellaVesperis
Summary: There is nothing that Fëanor's family wouldn't do for one another.
Relationships: Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Curufin | Curufinwë, Curufin | Curufinwë & Fëanor | Curufinwë
Series: Fëanorian Week 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211360
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Whether You Like It Or Not

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt-fill: Fëanor

“I’m so sick of this stupid family! I wish you weren’t my brother!”    
  
The words slipped out of Curvo’s mouth in the fury of the argument. Tyelko had been taunting him, and Maitimo, having arrived late, didn’t have the full context to the argument and started scolding Curvo before he had even had the chance to explain himself.    
  
It wasn’t fair! All his brothers always ganged up on him- and everyone else never seemed to get blamed for arguments. It was always his fault. Even still, he did love them, and he hadn’t meant to say it. Really. It had just kind of slipped out.    
  
Its effect was immediate. Both of his brothers reeled back as if slapped- Maitimo remained like that, face pale, but Tyelkormo recovered quickly and lunged for his little brother.    
  
Unfortunately, Fëanáro had chosen that exact moment to emerge from his project and walked in on his sons fighting.    
  
“What’s going on here?” He demanded and tore his two sons apart, both still trying to kick at each other.    
  
“He started it!” Curvo whined.    
  
“He doesn’t want to be my brother!” Tyelkormo shouted.    
  
Fëanáro relinquished his grip on Tyelko, who, smirking, stole that opportunity to run off before he could be reprimanded any further. Curvo stuck his tongue out at him. “Is that true?” 

“You aren’t even listening to me!’ Curvo cried.    
  
“Is it true?”    
  
He didn’t answer and stared defiantly at his father.    
  
Fëanáro scowled and dragged his son into the corridor, shut the door behind them, and sat him down on the bench there. Curvo folded his arms.    
  
“Curufinwë, look at me. What did you tell your brother?”    
  
“He was taunting me, Atto!”    
  
“ _ Curufinwë Atarincë. _ ”    
  
“I wish Tyelkormo wasn’t my brother. I’m sick of this family,” he mumbled sullenly.    
  
Fëanáro knelt on one knee and took his son’s hand. “You listen to me. You are a part of this family whether you like it or not. Your brother-”    
  
“That’s not what you told Nolofinwë,” he muttered under his breath, but his father heard.    
  
“That is very different,” he said sharply.    
  
“But how-”    
  
“Keep it up and you’ll have to clean off all Ammë’s tools.”    
  
Curvo resorted to giving dirty looks. He was thankful his father was too tired to deal with them. “It’s okay to be mad at your brother,” he continued, “but you don’t get to say things like that.”    
  
“I didn’t mean it, Atto.” 

  
Fëanáro’s features softened. “I know you didn’t. Sometimes words slip out that you don’t really believe.” His father rose. “I know your brothers can be annoying, and I know it doesn’t always feel like it, but your brothers would do anything for you- even Turcafinwë. And you would do the same for them, wouldn’t you?”    
  
“I dunno,” Curvo said. “If Turco told me to give Huan a bath I wouldn’t do it.”    
  
Fëanáro laughed, and Curvo’s face lit up. “Well, if he ever asks you to, tell him I said that you don’t have to.”    
  
“But I would do it for you,” he told him. “If you told me to. Only because you’re the best Atto in the whole world.”    
  
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” His smile faded a little. “That title used to belong to  _ my  _ Atar.”    
  
“Used to?” queried Curvo, having been sharp enough to pick up on it.    
  
Fëanáro hesitated only a moment. “Because clearly I’m the best one now.” He kissed his son’s brow. “Come. I’m going to have a talk with Turco about his behavior and when I’m done, I want you to apologize.”    
  
His heart sank. “Apologize?” 

  
Fëanáro narrowed his eyes. Curvo sighed.   
“Fine, Atto. I’ll do it for you.”   
  
* * * 

They looked like fireflies- at first. Darkling and glimmering, they flew into the dark like falling stars themselves. Curufinwë could hardly believe that they were ashes.    
  
Still kneeling where his father had been only moments ago, he found himself gripping what ashes still remained, as if that would keep him from slipping away. As if that could fix this horrible nightmare they’d walked into.    
  
Curufinwë rose to his feet while his brothers still stood numbly, and started to release the ashes in his hands. “I swear, Atto,” he said fiercely, “I swear that we shall avenge you. We will make him pay. We will reclaim our birthright. Should you be void-bound, then I will follow, but until then this I swear- I swear-” His words failed him.    
  
Tyelkormo approached him, the same flame in his eyes. “This we swear, and we do not swear lightly.”    
  
Curufinwë lost sight of the ashes. “This we will do for you.”    
  
_ And none shall release us.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Maitimo and Tyelkormo have stronger reactions to such a statement a) because they are older and know all the drama between Fëanor and his half-siblings, and b) because both of them have strong relationships with the children of Fingolfin. 
> 
> (Also guess who else didn’t want to be part of the Fëanorian chaos? Celebrimbor).


End file.
